


Observations

by kibasniper



Category: Psychonauts
Genre: Canon Era, Developing Friendships, Gen, Mischief, Nonbinary Character, Post-Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 10:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14952536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibasniper/pseuds/kibasniper
Summary: Clem thought he knew everything about Whispering Rock. He's been proven wrong once, but now, it's twice.





	Observations

With the summer coming to a chilling close, Clem had experienced a great deal of surprises in Whispering Rock, a place where no one would change. Kidnapping, stolen brains, and world domination schemes sounded like something out of an issue of True Psychic Tales. It was the kind of fantasy he expected from a video game, one he would play through and then forget when he grew up. If he chooses to tell his classmates what had happened to him, then he is certain he would be branded a liar.

Yet, at the very end, with jet engines roaring to life behind him, he is shocked. Not even being devoured by a massive lungfish is as startling as the person in front of his eyes.

He knew everyone in camp with all of their likes and dislikes. Their quirks and needs from his years surviving in Whispering Rock became secondhand knowledge. He memorized the exact times Bobby would seek him out and demand arrowhead payments for a protection service he never wanted. On weekends, he knew Maloof's mother would send out another box of candy, and it would arrive by Wednesday. If Maloof was feeling generous, he would offer Clem the dark chocolate pieces if Mikhail was uninterested. A new makeup kit arrived for Kitty every Monday from her father. On those days, Clem made sure to steer Crystal away from her as Kitty always wanted to try out some of uglier color combinations on his unsuspecting friend. Nils usually played cards with him just before dinnertime. The only real difference among the campers happened between Elton and Milka, inseparable and making out far too much for his liking.

Still, even though he knew all so much about the other campers, as the jet rises, Clem just stares at the child in front of him.

Bright teal eyes blink at him, and he is taken right back to reality. The deafening noise of the ascending jet impales his ears, and he grimaces, gripping his head. The wind kicks his backside, and he steels himself, hunching forward. Cutting air whips around him, but he never loses sight of who is in front of him.

Clem registers the outhouse. A few splinters break off and bounce off the toilet paper. The outhouse's uncomfortable, rank stench hits his nostrils, and he steps backwards, allowing more light to enter the outhouse.

“Hello.” Their voice is breathy as if they had not spoken in quite some time. Hoarseness coats their greeting.

“Oh, uh, hi,” Clem says and offers a smile. He follows the other child's gaze, watching the jet speed off for unknown adventures. He releases his forearms and drops his arms to his sides.

The other child peers around Clem, spotting Chloe dancing by the bus, and Crystal joins her. They step back into the outhouse and heave out a yawn.

Clem swallows, hearing conversations between Franke and Kitty and Elka and Nils bustling as they arrive at the parking lot. He pats his pockets, finding nothing there, and he continues smiling.

“So, uh, I don't know you,” Clem says, and he wants to hit himself for such a foolish question.

“No one does,” the other child replies with a shrug.

Clem glances at their appearance. The first thing he takes note of is their massive, stripped stocking cap, one that could have rivaled Mikhail's hat. A white tunic with a golden strap going around his right shoulder to his left hip is something straight out of a fantasy novel or a role playing game. Their green shorts look like they are made of silk and have a faint shine. To Clem's bewilderment, they wear pointed shoes and knee socks, something he could have sworn he saw Benny wearing at one point.

The child glances at their attire and point at their feet. “Those are Benny's. I, well, borrowed them if you catch my drift.”

Clem jerks his head up only to sigh. They are at a psychic summer camp. It is natural to assume the other child is psychic if they had managed to elude discovery for so long. He only happened upon the child by complete chance when he noticed the outhouse door slamming shut. The only campers around at that point were JT, Chops, Chloe, Crystal, and himself while the rest of the campers resided in the cabin area to pack. Simple process of elimination brought his curiosity to the forefront, and now, he still has no idea what to say.

“What's your name?” Clem asks after what feels like an eternity passes between them. Clem counts the seconds as the child remains a statue, a model of picture perfect neutrality.

“D'art. You're Clem,” D'art remarks, and Clem tilts his head, his smile never faltering.

“Oh, so you know my name? Well, I guess from a kid who goes around stealing socks and shoes, then you must've been busy watching everyone, right?” Clem asks, and D'art returns the grin.

“That's right. I've watched everyone closely.” They lean into Clem, and Clem feels chills attack his spine. “Far more closely than you ever did, but I appreciate your tenacity.”

Clem's grin dies by a molar. He strokes his neck, feather-light touches feeling foreign on his skin.

D'art chuckles, illuminating like a true child expressing their slyness. “Sorry, sorry. That was a creepy comment. I really have to work on that.”

“I can't tell if you're sorry at all,” Clem says, surprised by his own honesty. He would have bit back his scathing remarks and would have vomited platitudes, but the mysterious child before him brought out his inner nature. The sensation of newness washes over him and almost drowns him under a hostile, blue current.

D'art covers their mouth as they giggle, a high-pitched sound that reminds Clem of Raz, and they mimic Clem's head tilt. “That's fine. It's really fine. I mean, I'm a kid you found in an outhouse. I'm really oozing with mystery, huh?”

“I think you're oozing with weirdness,” Clem admits, and he struggles to find a reason to be polite. D'art's smile is like a continuous strike, one leaving Clem completely on edge. He furrows his brow, adding, “You were watching everyone in camp.”

“If that's a question, then, yeah! I was.” D'art grips their hips, glancing over Clem's shoulder and spots more campers coming their way. “Maybe you should get going. You'll be the weird one if you're seen talking to yourself in an outhouse.”

Clem frowns as the boisterous voice of Bobby Zilch cuts through the tension. He hears insults spill out of Bobby's snaggle-toothed mouth directed at his lackey only to abruptly stop with gargled yelp. Recalling Chloe in the parking lot, Clem heaves a sigh. Clem glances over his shoulder, spotting Bobby coming down the dirt path with two backpacks slung on his back. Benny ambles at his side, carrying his own belongings and Bobby's third knapsack on his back. He watches Bobby wave to Chloe, who continues dancing with Crystal as she greets him. Clem keeps his eye on Crystal, fists clenching on his sides.

“You're worried that ugly guy will make fun of her, right?” D'art asks, and Clem hears D'art clear their throat when Clem does not answer. “That's okay. If anyone is near Chloe and being friendly with her, then Bobby won't interfere. It was one of the more interesting developments I saw during my time here.”

Clem scoffs, and his eyes roll. His nose wrinkles, and he crosses his arms, leaning towards D'art. “You don't know that. In fact, there's no way to predict what kind of jerk move Bobby will pull next. He's gone after people with Chloe near her. Just ask Nils, but you don't wanna talk. You wanna hide in an outhouse.”

D'art's eyebrows raise, and the grip on their hips tighten. Blood rushes to his knuckles. They hum, sensing the anger growing in Clem like a flower, ripe, rosy, and ready to bloom, but Clem snips the bud. As the practiced grin attempts to worm its way on Clem's face, D'art sighs.

“It's the last day at camp, right? Well, let's have a little fun. I'll give you have a special goodbye gift,” D'art says, and they grip Clem's shoulder, pushing him to the side of the outhouse.

Clem grunts, stumbling over his feet. He grips the side of the outhouse to steady himself. He scowls at the outhouse only to watch the door burst open, and he expects to see D'art exit. When D'art does not come out, Clem steps to the side of the outhouse and peers inside.

D'art is gone and out of sight. Rationalization comes before confusion can make his mind sputter. Reminding himself that D'art is possibly psychic, Clem ambles away from the outhouse and towards the parking lot. He already packed his belongings in the bus' underbelly, so all he wants to do is get on the bus and forget everything that happened in Whispering Rock.

A drop of water plops on his shoulder. Murky liquid rushes past him, and a scream rockets throughout Whispering Rock.

Clem freezes in place as he stares at the scene playing out before him. The sky is pure without a single cloud to be seen. Only saturated hues of blue and pink streak across the world while the golden sun beats down upon him. Shrill shrieks register in his mind and pound against his eardrums. He blinks, and Clem can see everything at once.

Bobby's backpacks are soaking with the strange liquid that flew by his head. When Clem looks at Bobby, he is drenched in soiled water. His clothes cling to his scrawny body, wrinkled and sodden. His jersey slaps against his thighs while his pants nearly trip him as he stomps around. Dirt clings to his ankles and feet. Bobby continues screaming, pupils constricting and nostrils flaring. He shakes like a dog, liquid shooting off him as other campers break into laughter. Benny's stuttering consolation earns him a slap to the back of his head.

As Bobby demands to know what happened, Clem glances at the outhouse, and his eyes widen. He frowns at the dirty spot on his shoulder and shudders.

_A little potty water never hurt anyone._

D'art's voice echoes in Clem's head, and no matter where Clem looks, he cannot find the mischievous child. Other sounds drag him away from his thoughts as campers approach Bobby with cameras. Kitty takes as many pictures as she can before Bobby lunges at her, and she flees with Franke's hand in her own. Mikhail whistles, offering a towel from his bag, and Bobby shouts at him to die. Noticing Crystal, Clem grabs her hand and pulls her towards the bus.

“Gosh, that was so wild! How'd that even happen?” Crystal asks, getting on the bus. She finds Vernon fast asleep in the front seat, so she moves closer towards the back.

Clem shrugs, sitting against the window when she chooses a seat directly in the middle. “Gee, I dunno, Crystal. That just kind of happened outta nowhere.”

“Yeah, you're right. Super weird though.” Crystal gasps. “Oh, yeah! Chloe taught me her alien dance. You wanna see it?”

“Sure!” Clem smiles, his mind elsewhere.

He watches Crystal dance, shimmying her hips and spinning in place. Her moves are forgotten as the child's rascality plagues his thoughts. Clem wonders how he could not have seen them, but the gnawing thought of how long D'art had been in camp haunts his mind. The realization swarms his concentration, blurring the world as he thinks. He had been going to camp for a few years, but he never noticed D'art. His breath is stolen as his thoughts run wild. Feeling like he could collapse, Clem watches Crystal shoot her arms out.

“Well, what did you think?” Crystal asks, not a bead of sweat on her brow despite her intricate dance moves.

“Great!” Clem's automatic response and smile satisfy her. As she squeals and bounces in place, Clem leans against the window. He peers out to the parking lot, watching Bobby and Chloe trek back into Whispering Rock.

When Ford gets on the bus dressed in a driver's uniform, he slams his fist on the horn, shouting for the children to hurry up. One by one, they enter, and when Ford realizes Bobby and Chloe are not among them, he groans. Snapping at the kids to remain seated with insults peppered in against the naughtier kids, Ford stomps off to find the missing campers.

Left to their own qualms, Clem listens to Crystal chat with Elka in the adjacent seat. He would have joined, but the uncomfortable sight of Elton and Milka kissing in the seat in front of Elka perturbs him. He wonders how they can breathe if their faces are always mashed together. 

Turning his attention to the window, Clem's eyes widen. Before he can stop himself, a gasp slips between his lips. He presses his fingertips against the glass. His blood runs cold, wondering how Ford could have missed them.

D'art stands under the window, waves, and in a blink, they are gone. Clem's mind blanks, and he scans the parking lot only to see concrete and trees. He leans back against the cushion seat, gazing at the gray curved ceiling. He closes his eyes and presses his palms against his face. Darkness obscures the blurry colors beating against his eyelids.

“You okay, Clem?” Crystal interjects, touching his forearm.

Clem straightens, dropping his hands in his lap as he says, “Yep. I'm a-okay. Just kind of tired from the whole brain stealing thing.”

Elka clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Yeah, that's true. Today was total chaos with our brains getting stolen and me breaking up with Nils...” She sniffles, squeezing her eyes shut. “...again.”

“Again? Oh, no, Elka! I'm so sorry!” Crystal cries, reaching over to hug her, which Elka gladly accepts.

As Elka spills her guts out to Crystal, Clem keeps his eyes on the scenery. The background static fades out, replaced with his own dull thoughts. He does not want to think about going home and dwells on his encounter with D'art, the only camper who evaded him. He thought he memorized everything about everyone to protect himself and Crystal, but it seemed Whispering Rock had many more secrets that he had not uncovered. From Oleander's scheme to two hidden children, Clem wonders what exactly next year had in store for him.

_I'll see you next summer, Clem._

D'art's voice rings in his mind, a sing-song quality to it. Clem bites his lower lip, eyes still closed. He feels a creeping smile splitting onto his face, and he sets his temple to the window. He has so many questions he wants to ask D'art, but he settles on a reply.

 _Sure thing. Goodbye for now,_ he thinks, and in return, D'art's laughter hums in the back of his mind. Whether it is malevolent or benevolent, Clem is not entirely sure and springs back to life by joining Elka and Crystal's conversation. He can think later. For now, it is best to simply relax and enjoy his last conversation with Crystal until next summer.


End file.
